


This Is Halloween

by StillBreathing1039



Category: Green Day
Genre: Green Day - Freeform, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, I suck at dialogue, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Meh, Open Marriage, trillie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8414065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StillBreathing1039/pseuds/StillBreathing1039
Summary: I wrote this a few years ago and promptly forgot about it, until I found it on my harddrive earlier this week. Apologies if it's crap, but at least it was kinda fun to write.





	

Billie Joe Armstrong liked Halloween a lot. He had always been a great fan of characters and costumes, and getting to play at being a superhero, a zombie, a ghost, a skeleton, whatever he wanted for one night was fun, and sometimes even helped him to write. Plus, candy. Lots and lots of candy. 

This year, Tré had decided to hold a bash at his house. The group text had stated that it was to be fancy dress, strictly adults only. Not that Billie's boys would probably want to attend a party with their parents in tow any more, but when Tré felt like he had to confirm that it was a party not for innocent eyes, it meant that he had something up his sleeves. One New Years Eve, it had been a naked sushi bar. Then, the stag party for a close friend, with a young lady who did things with ping-pong balls that disgusted and delighted Billie Joe in equal measure. What he had planned for Halloween was anyone's best guess.

Billie hadn't put much thought into what he wanted to be for the party. He had a few outfits from previous years, so when Adrienne had asked him, he had only shrugged, saying he could pull out his Jack Skeleton outfit from a couple of years back. Adie had tried to get him to go costume shopping with her, arguing that she'd thrown the shirt away and he needed to choose something new, but in the end Billie had stayed put, content to sit and watch the Raiders game with Mojo on his lap and Cleo splayed across his feet. “Just get me a burglar costume or something, whatever you think will look alright” he'd said just before she left, without taking his eyes from the screen. He hadn't noticed the cheeky glint in her eyes as she left. She hadn't let him look in the shopping bags when she returned either. 

The night of the party soon rolled around, and Billie wasn't any the wiser as to what his costume was. Adrienne had summoned him to the master bedroom to start getting ready surprisingly early though. Billie flopped onto his bed, closed his eyes and waited for his wife to appear from the bathroom. The click of her heels against the hardwood floor signalled her entrance a few moments later. Billie sat up and groaned at the sight before him. Adrienne had become a seriously naughty nun, in a black leather mini dress that Billie was certain wasn't part of any habit he'd ever seen before, white wimple and black veil, fishnet stockings, and black stiletto heels. Hanging from her hand was a set of rosaries pilfered from Billie's Reverend Strychnine Twitch get-up.  
“Jeeeeesus babydoll, I thought we were going out tonight!” He purred in approval.  
“Oh, we are baby. We just need to get you ready.” She replied sweetly, the cheeky glint in her eye returning.  
“We've got plenty of time before we have to leave though, I could do with saying a few 'Hail Mary's first” Billie shuffled himself to the end of the bed and reached out to stroke Adie's smooth thigh. She batted his hand away, giggling.  
“Like all ladies of the cloth, I've taken a vow of celibacy. Besides, we need the extra time for your costume.”  
“Oh no, I thought you were getting me a burglar outfit! There's not loads of make-up involved, is there?” he whined. Adie just grinned and pulled the shopping bag out from under the bed, and dropped it onto his lap.  
“I got you a burglar outfit, sweetheart.” She said, with a wicked smile on her face. “Just not the one you were banking on...” Billie gulped and pulled out his outfit.

The word “outfit” was generous. There was a little tutu skirt, and two thin strips of material to cover his chest, all covered in black and white stripes. Nestled at the bottom of the bag were a pair of sheer thigh high stockings, a black suspender belt, and a black lacy, padded bra and matching thong. She'd even brought him a pair of lucite stripper heels to complete his outfit His jaw dropped. The busty girl on the packaging looked almost as scandalised as he felt.  
“Adie... Very funny! Where's my real costume?”  
“What? I got you what you asked for!” Adie giggled. “You should have come and picked it out yourself, shouldn't you?”  
“I can't wear this, I'd never live it down!” Billie pouted. “I'll just wear my Raiders jersey, go as a Raiders fan...”  
“I knew you wouldn't have the balls to wear it.” Adie smirked. “In fact, I dare you. I dare you to wear the slutty burglar costume!”  
“I... but....” Billie spluttered. “...What do I get if I do?” Adie carefully climbed onto the bed and straddled Billie's lap.  
“Hmm... You'll get a whole weekend in bed with your filthy, but amazingly beautiful wife, where nothing is off the table.”  
“Even...?” Billie looked into her eyes, hopefully.  
“Even that, you sick little pervert.” She grinned.  
“What about Jake?”  
“He's away with friends this weekend. We'll have the house to ourselves...” Billie weighed up his options. On one hand, embarrassment in front of their friends and a kinky weekend with his wife, and the other, no kinky sex and Adie would win... He couldn't have that!  
“...I'll do it.”

Before he had known what had hit him, Adie had dragged him into the bathroom and attacked him with a tube of hair removal cream. She smothered his legs, thighs and armpits in it, then proceeded to “tidy up” his bikini line. By the time she pushed him into the shower not five minutes later, he was completely hairless from the neck down. After his shower, he was sure to carefully shave his face, then smother his body in Adrienne's lush smelling after shave butter.  
“Mhmmm, smooth. I like it.” Adie had poked her head through the door. “C'mon baby, we've gotta leave soon, and I have a lot of work to do on you.”

Just over an hour later, the Armstrong's were sitting in their car on Tré Cool's driveway. Adie had driven, as Billie had reasoned that her giving her drivers license to the police while dressed as a nun would be so much easier to explain to a member of the Oakland PD than having to explain what was going on with Billie. Not that any police officer would even recognise Billie under the layers of make up Adrienne had applied. Heavy, perfectly winged eyeliner and multiple pairs of false eyelashes accentuated his eyes, foundation, concealer and powder gave him a perfect porcelain complexion and the lightest touches of bronzer had contoured away the last of his more masculine features. Even his famously bushy eyebrows had been tidied up, although not as much as Adie would have liked. The only real tell that would let anyone see just who he was were the images permanently inked onto his skin. 

“How did I ever let you talk me into this?” Billie Joe whined, adjusting the pastel pink bob wig that Adie had insisted on.  
“Because you, are a little man whore.” She smirked. “Besides, you can't resist me.”  
“I know.” he grumbled. “Adie, I don't think I can do this. What if there's someone we can't trust in there? I don't wanna be on the internet dressed like this...”  
“Baby, relax. I already checked. Tré's only invited close friends. You know I wouldn't send you out looking like a whore to just any party.” Billie watched her carefully for any tell of a lie, but found only reassurance. He took a deep breath and opened the passenger side door.

To Adie's credit, she was completely right. Tré had only invited the closest members of their tight-knit circle. There were bemused stares from members of their road crew and trusted friends, but they soon gave way to good natured ribbing. Billie was quick to point to his reasoning behind going through with it, and given the appreciative looks Adie was getting, most people understood completely. However, when he spotted a pair of pirates, his best friend accompanied by his pretty blond wife, he quickly made his excuses and wound his way around the room to greet them.  
“Hey Mikey... Britt... Or should I say ahoy, mateys!” Giggling at his own joke, Billie grinned as their almost blank expressions gave way to shock.  
“Billie, jesus! What are you wearing?” Britt exclaimed. Mike stood slack jawed and silent as he looked over his best friend.  
“Oh, Adie dared me to wear the slutty burglar costume. You two make cute pirates! Mikey, are you gonna swash my buckle?” Mike could only gape at Billie as he fluttered his eyelashes at him. A bright red blush spread across his cheeks. Billie's eyes flicked down to confirm what he'd thought: a large bulge had formed in the front of Mike's pants. “Y'know sailor, I could help you with that...” Billie purred, closing the space between him and Mike.  
“AHEM!” Brittney's face was thunderous. Mike would make him pay for that later, for sure.  
“Um... I left my cigarettes in the car, I better go get them...” Billie beat a hasty retreat, leaving his still flushed bandmate getting an earful from his wife.

Billie stepped out into the warm night air and tottered over to the car. He was quietly impressed with how quickly he'd picked up walking in his platform heels, however, going down the sloped driveway and steps still had him fearing for his life. There was no way he intended on being taken to hospital dressed like this, broken ankle or not. In fact, being outside for any length of time was more risk than he was intending on taking. Paparazzi had cameras with long lenses, they could spot you anywhere, even in the privacy of Tré's front garden. He quickly unlocked the car door and knelt on the drivers seat. He had a pack of cigarettes in there somewhere, he was sure of it.

“Excuse me ma'am, step out of the car please.” Billie jumped at the stern-sounding, but familiar voice.  
“Fuck, Tré! You scared the shit out of me.”  
“Ma'am, step out of the car please. Keep your hands where I can see them.”  
“Haha, very funny.” Billie crawled out slowly and turned to face Tré. The short, stocky drummer was dressed in a navy shirt and navy pants, with a blue stripe running down the side. Pinned to his chest as a silver star embellished with the words “police officer” and the number 13. An Oakland PD embroidered badge was sewn onto his left sleeve, and a matching peaked hat perched on his head. His usual sly smirk was replaced with an unreadable expression.  
“Now, ma'am. We both know this isn't your car.” Tré started, taking a pause to look Billie Joe over. “Would you mind telling me what you're doing?”  
“Tré, shut up. It's getting cold out here, let me go.” Billie snapped, losing his sense of humour. “Let me grab my cigarettes and we can go back in.”  
“Ma'am, you're not grabbing anything from this car, unless your licence and ID are in there.” Tré wasn't giving the joke up anytime soon, so Billie rolled his eyes and reached into the glove box, pulling out his wallet. He fished out the cards and handed them to Tré, who looked them over carefully, before tucking them back inside and throwing the wallet back into the car.  
“Ma'am, this says you're a male born in 1972. We can both see that that's not true.” He raked his eyes over the massive cleavage that Adie had insisted on, as it filled out Beej's costume perfectly. Billie attempted to cross his arms over the boobs, but had to settle for resting his arms under them, which only served to push them higher.  
“Tré, c'mon man, let's get back to the party...” Billie whined, as his face turned crimson. 

With one swift movement, Tré grabbed Billie by his wrist and whipped him round, pinning him against the cold metal of the car. As Billie yelped and squirmed, he pulled a set of sturdy silver handcuffs from his belt and cuffed Beej's hands behind his back.  
“Ma'am, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say may be held against you.”  
“Tré! What the hell?!” Billie squawked, bucking away from the cold back into Tré's warm body.  
“Mmm, I'd quite like to be held against you.” Tré purred, pressing himself firmly against Billie's back. He pushed him back against the car. “Ma'am, I'm going to search you for... um... 'Concealed Weapons'. No sudden movements now” 

Tré started at the base of Billie's neck, stroking the exposed skin gently before leaning in and kissing him. Billie shivered in response, before breaking out in goosebumps. Tré swept his hands down to Billie's lacy bra, and squeezed the heavy breasts contained within. “Mmmm, you should consider keeping these puppies, Slutpants.” Billie moaned quietly at the Tré's use of his private nickname, the one only Tré used when they played together.  
“Tré, c'mon, not here... someone might see...” His breathing was becoming more ragged as Tré's hands slid further down, his fingers tickling across his tummy, looking for the fine trail of hair that usually led to Billie's crotch.  
“Hmm, smooth?” Tré asked, stroking the newly hairless skin. “Is everything smooth, Billie Joe?” Billie could only nod in response. Tré's hand slipped down and cupped Billie's groin, just barely encased in his black lacy thong. “Hmm, this feels like a weapon, alright.” Tré smirked. “Luckily, I have one of my own” Tré pulled Billie back by his hips and ground himself into his backside. “Can you feel my nightstick, Slutpants?” Billie gasped and desperately grasped at any bit of material he could in order to keep the delicious friction going.  
“O-o-o Officer, maybe we could come to a... ahhh... an agreement?” Without warning, Tré sharply pushed Billie back against the car. Billie squeaked loudly as cold steel met his warm, teased flesh.  
“Ma'am that sounds like you're soliciting a police officer. Is that what you are? You're a prostitute?”  
“God no!” Billie could only squirm under Tré's weight pressing against him.  
“Maybe there is something you could do for me though, ma'am...” Tré jangled the keys to the cuffs as he spoke.  
“Oh, anything officer! I swear!” Billie felt a sly smile creep over his face, having a fair idea of what the police officer's favour could be.

Tré unlocked Billie's restraints and tucked them back in his belt. Billie turned on a wobbly heel and balled his fist in Tré's shirt, pulling him in for a heated kiss. Tré manoeuvred them towards the back seats and opened the door. Billie crawled in first and laid back on the seats, Tré quickly followed, kneeling carefully over him. He leant in, planting gentle kissing over Billie's exposed stomach, paying particular attention to the singer's hips, nipping at the two tattoos that adorned them.  
“C'mon Tré, want you...” Billie whined with his need.  
“Flip, babe.” Billie rolled onto his knees, pulling his tutu up and out of Tré's way. Tré traced a rough finger down the lace of Billie Joe's thong before slipping it down to his knees. He pressed his hand against Billie’s hole, evoking louder moans from the singer. Billie felt a sudden wetness against his hole. He didn’t know if it was lube or spit, but he didn’t care. Tré’s fingers slid in easily, reaching and rotating. Billie Joe propped one hand up against the window, and reached his other hand down to rub frantically at his leaking cock.  
“Please, Tré, please.” Billie begged. Tré withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock. He shoved into him in one swift motion.

Billie gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain as Tré began to move slowly. The pain slowly dissipated into gorgeous pressure, building deep in his belly, his nerve endings singing until he could feel it at the tips of his fingers and toes. He jolted as Tré brushed against his prostate, and Billie could have sworn he saw stars. “Oh God,” he whimpered. “Do that again.”  
“My pleasure” Tré grunted as he moved faster, hitting Billie’s prostate with nearly each thrust.  
It was only a few more strokes before Billie was trembling, his orgasm nearly ready to burst. Tré thrust sharply and took Beej spilling over then edge, his face hitting the upholstery, his vision blurring, his seed hitting his stomach. Tré soon followed, pulling out just before he came across Billie's thighs.

After a quick clean up session later, Billie consented to Tré leading him by the handcuffs back into the party, to much amusement from their gathered friends. What he hadn't counted on was the appearance of the cage in the middle of Tré's rec room. Tré managed to bundle the petite singer in there with minimal effort, and quickly cuffed him to one of the bars.  
“Tré, what the fuck! Let me go!”  
“Like I said, Billie Joe, you're under arrest!” Tré replied with a smirk. “You're going to spend the evening in my make shift prison. If you're a good girl, you might even get some candy!” With a loud whine from Billie, and raucous laughter from his gathered friends, the party continued on until the early hours. As the last few guests left, Tré granted Billie bail to Mrs. A. Armstrong, and released him from his bonds.

“I have to say, honey, I didn't think you'd last the whole night in that get up” Adrienne grinned as she drove home.  
“Yeah, well. I didn't have much choice for the most part, dear.” Billie grumbled.  
“Didn't Tré look good?” She giggled.  
“Oh yes. Y'know, it's funny how I ended up as a burglar and Tré just happened to be a cop...” Billie started slowly.  
“Oh, maybe I should have mentioned, I ran into Tré at the costume shop. He was quite keen on being a cop after I explained that you couldn't be bothered to choose your own costume, so we came up with your outfit together.”  
“Hmph. It all makes sense.” Billie scowled.  
“Oh, don't pout baby. You got yours, didn't you?” Adie grinned. “And I'm gonna get mine all weekend long...”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few years ago and promptly forgot about it, until I found it on my harddrive earlier this week. Apologies if it's crap, but at least it was kinda fun to write.


End file.
